The Dark Truth
by EriksAngel2
Summary: For anyone who read "Haunted by the Past". This is the sequel. Danielle searches for the whole truth about Erik and learns things are not always as they seem.
1. Prologue

March 4th, 1878  
  
Hello diary. It's Danielle. I know I haven't written since I was about 6, but I need to get some feelings out. In the past week I've been looking. Looking for answers to questions I've been asking for 6 years. When I was 11, I learned all my mother and Christian could tell me, or wanted to tell me, about my father. Since then I've wondered why everyone hated him so much. Mother says it was because of his face. I find it hard to believe that that was the only reason. I mean, I apparently have his face, but as far as I know I am accepted. The whole thing is really confusing. Someday I'll understand everything. I won't be happy until I do. 


	2. Chapter 1

I pulled the collar of my black trench coat up to cover the lower half of my face. The cool breeze played through my hair. I knelt down to the ground and pulled away the weeds that had started to cover the headstone at my father's grave. I gently placed a black rose at the bottom of the stone. I stood up and moved back.  
  
"I wish I had met you father," I said sorrowfully. I studied the headstone. It was made of black marble. A piano was carved into the bottom corner. The writing was simple yet elegant and read:  
  
Erik Destler  
1826-1861  
Husband  
Father  
Angel of Music  
  
"You come here a lot don't you Danielle?" I whipped around and pulled out the dagger I always carried. "Whoa! Would you really stab your own brother?"  
  
"Christian!" I yelled furiously. "Sometime I just might if you don't learn not to sneak up on me!" I put the dagger back in its sheath and pushed my hair out of my face. "Why are you here?"  
  
"Nice to see you too Danielle," he muttered. "I come up here too. I've seen you a few times."  
  
"I come two or three times a week," I stated.  
  
"Why do you come so much?" he asked. I put my hands in my pockets and stared at the headstone.  
  
"It's the only way I can feel close to him and the only place I can be alone with him," I said quietly. I looked back at Christian. He was staring at the ground, apparently deep in thought.  
  
"Come on," he said and started walking away.  
  
"Where are we going?" I asked surprised.  
  
"Paris," Christian stated. "I want to show you something. Just to warn you though, people in Paris are a little bit more judgmental than the people around here. No matter what you hear just keep following me alright?"  
  
"Alright," I replied even though I didn't really understand what he was trying to get at. He always had trouble with just being blunt. I, on the other hand, prefer to say exactly what I'm thinking.  
  
We walked back to the chateau and Christian went and talked to mother. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but mother looked concerned about something. I could tell they were arguing. Finally, mother threw her hands up in a sign of defeat. They both walked over to where I was sitting.  
  
"Ready to go Danielle?" Christian asked.  
  
"I guess," I answered. I looked at mother. She looked like she was about to cry. "Goodbye Mother," I said. She hugged me and kissed my forehead.  
  
"Goodbye Danielle. You know I love you right?" She asked. I laughed softly.  
  
"Of course I do mother," I replied. She nodded and walked out of the room.  
  
"Alright, let's go," Christian said.  
  
"What's wrong with mother?" I questioned still staring in the direction she had gone.  
  
"She's just not feeling very well," Christian answered. "Ready?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Good, come on." We walked outside and climbed into the carriage that was waiting for us.  
  
"The Paris Opera house please Jean," Christian told the driver.  
  
"Oui Monsieur," Jean replied.  
  
"We're going to the Opera House?!" I asked excitedly.  
  
"Yes we are," Christian answered. The rest of the trip was silent. When we arrived, Christian looked at me before climbing out.  
  
"Remember, no matter what, keep following me," he instructed and then opened the door. We stepped out and I smiled. I had wanted to come to the Opera House since I was five years old. Now my dream was finally coming true. We climbed the steps and went inside. The next performance wasn't until 7:00 that night, so there were few people in the building.  
  
"This way Danielle," Christian said and we turned down a small, dark hallway. At the end of the hall, Christian pushed aside a table and a tapestry and pushed on a small crack in the bricks. The wall swung open into a small door that led to a flight of stairs. After Christian went in, he told me to put the table back as close as I could to where it had been.  
  
We walked for about 20 minutes before we came into a large cavern. It seemed to glow with an eerie blue light. I soon realized this came from a lake that covered a good portion of the cavern floor.  
  
We walked down to the shore and climbed into a little boat. Christian rowed us across the lake and helped me out of the boat when we reached the other side. He went up to the wall and pushed on a brick. I could see a faint, white "X" on it. A hidden door opened when Christian pushed the brick.  
  
"Welcome," he said, "to Erik's lair." 


	3. Chapter 2

"This is where he lived?" I asked walking in.  
  
"For most of his life yes," Christian replied. He walked around and lit the candles. Even in the dim, flickering light, I could tell the furnishings were very expensive. Everything was covered in a layer of dust. Near where I stood was an organ. As I looked at it, something else caught my eye. A dark red spot was on the floor next to the organ. It looked like blood.  
  
"Christian what is this?" I asked pointing to the spot. He shifted uncomfortably.  
  
"That's where he died," he stated finally.  
  
"You never told me how he died," I pointed out.  
  
"You've heard mother talk about Raoul before right?" he asked.  
  
"Yes," I replied. "Why?"  
  
"He shot our father," he stated.  
  
"What?!" I cried. "Is he still alive?"  
  
"No," Christian said and cracked his neck. I could tell he was uncomfortable. "I killed him. I shot him in the head from behind at the same moment he shot Erik. I was trying to save him, but I was too late." He dropped his head and stared at the floor.  
  
"It's not your fault Christian," I said comfortingly.  
  
"In a way it is. I told Raoul that mother was here," he told me.  
  
"Why?" I asked.  
  
"Raoul and mother were married," he stated.  
  
"There's a lot you and mother never told me," I said coolly. I started walking around looking at everything. I walked over to a door and tried to open it. The handle moved but the door was stuck. I slammed into it and it flew open. I fell to the ground and hit my elbow.  
  
The pain was brief but sharp. I stood up and surveyed the room. "Good Lord," I breathed. I looked around the room again. Every wall was covered with sheets of music. The room was huge. It had about 11 foot ceilings and was at least 950 square feet in area.  
  
There were several tables in the room that were also covered with music. At the opposite side of the room was another door. I walked to it and it opened far more easily than the fist one. Through the door I found a room with a far different feel than the previous.  
  
Everything in it was broken including the walls which were actually mirrors. In one corner stood an iron tree with a noose dangling from on branch. Had the mirrors been intact, they would have created the illusion of being in a forest. I walked around the room and looked at all the things that were lying around. The various pieces of broken furniture looked like they had just been thrown in the room to get them out of the way.  
  
"Danielle?!" Christian called from the other room.  
  
"In here Christian!" I yelled back. He walked in and looked around in astonishment.  
  
"What do you suppose this room was for?" he asked.  
  
"Nothing good," I answered and pointed to the noose on the iron tree.  
  
"I'll have to agree with you on that," he stated. "I think most of this furniture came from his room. I recognize some of it. I don't know when he destroyed it. It might have been after I- never mind." I decided to ignore the fact that he had stopped himself.  
  
"Where is his room?" I asked.  
  
"Follow me," Christian instructed. I went with him back into the main room and then through another door. The room it led to was much smaller than any of the other ones I had been in so far. It contained only a cherry wood dresser, a few standing and wall mounted candelabras, and a king size bed with black linens. Standing out very distinctively against the linens however was a white, half mask resting on a pillow.  
  
"Christian look," I said pointing to the mask. I sat on the bed and picked it up.  
  
"Mother must have brought it here shortly after the funeral. I guess she took it off him before he was buried," Christian told me.  
  
"Why didn't she leave it on him?" I asked.  
  
"I remember her saying something about him not needing to hide in death when he had been forced to hide his whole life," he replied.  
  
"Will mother mind if I bring it home?" I questioned.  
  
"I don't think so," he answered. I stood up and walked out of the room. A door across from me stood slightly ajar.  
  
"What's in there Christian?" I asked, indicating the door.  
  
"That was the room I stayed in when I was here. It was actually mother's room," he informed me. I strode over to it and walked in. There were two dressers, one with a vanity connected to it, a few candelabras, and a queen size bed. The linens on the bed were deep red and gold and looked very expensive. There was another door on the opposite wall. I opened it and found a bathroom.  
  
Walking back into the bedroom, I went to the larger of the two dressers. I opened it and found a beautiful wedding dress hanging inside. I touched it gently and my eyes filled with tears as I remembered how mother had described her wedding to Erik. She had made him so happy. For the first time in his life, someone had loved him. I shut the door and traced the initials carved on the outside of it. I walked back into the main room and found Christian sitting on the divan.  
  
"Ready to go?" he asked. I looked around one last time and nodded.  
  
I'm going to be here a lot, I thought to myself. 


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: Ok everyone, please do not hate me and not read the rest of my story just because of what happens in part of this chapter! PLEASE!!!! The evil will be dealt with! I had to do it. (I also had to pay my friend $10 just so she would read it because of what happens but oh well!) Anyway, do not think I enjoyed any of the evilness. I didn't. It had to be done so that I could do something else later. So confusing!!! Anyway, thanks to those of you who have reviewed so far and please keep it up! I'll stop rambling now. Here's the story!!!  
  
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We emerged from the labyrinth and walked into the main lobby of the Opera House. People had begun to gather there waiting for the performance to start. They had all been chatting noisily, but when we walked in they quieted. Christian got a dark look on his face.  
  
"Just keep following me," he muttered. We started towards the doors. I could see people staring at me. I could hear their whispers. I did what Christian said and just kept following him. The whispers grew to murmurs and Christian walked faster. I had to grab his hand to keep from being separated from him in the crowd.  
  
"Who's the freak Destler?! Your girlfriend?!" A man yelled from behind us. Christian stopped dead in his tracks and tightened his grip on my hand ever so slightly. He shook his head quickly and started walking again. Suddenly I felt someone grab my other arm.  
  
"I asked you a question Destler. Who's the freak?" The man yanked me away from Christian who then turned to look at the man.  
  
"Shut up bastard," Christian said icily and took my hand again. "Let's go Danielle."  
  
"Answer me Destler! Is she your freak girlfriend? Trying to find someone like your father?" the man taunted.  
  
Christian rounded on him furiously. "Hold your tongue Chagny or I swear I will not rest until your whole family is in Hell where they belong!" he roared. His eyes blazed red and his voice made me shiver in fear. A hushed silence had fallen over the other occupants of the lobby.  
  
"They don't need anyone else in Hell Destler, your father is enough. Him and all the other freaks. I guess she'll be there someday too," the man spat back. My eyes filled with tears of anger and hurt.  
  
"Please Christian, let's go home," I said softly through my tears. He looked down at me and his eyes immediately returned to their usual gold.  
  
"This isn't over Chagny. This will be finished one day," he warned and took my hand. The crowd parted for us as we nearly ran to the front doors. Once outside, Christian hailed a cab and we climbed in. He gave the driver our address and told him to hurry.  
  
During the ride, I leaned into Christian and wept. He kept a comforting arm around my shoulder. I tried to stop crying, but I couldn't. The man's words had hit me like he had shoved a knife in my heart.  
  
"I'll kill him. I'll kill him for doing this to you Danielle," Christian vowed. We pulled up in front of our chateau and I ran into the house. Halfway down the hall, I ran into mother.  
  
"Danielle!" she cried. "What's wrong?" She held my face in her hands. I struggled to get away, but she wouldn't let go.  
  
"Let me go!" I screamed as more tears poured down my face.  
  
"Danielle, calm down! Tell me what's wrong!" mother yelled. I collapsed to the floor and sobbed. Suddenly, someone wrapped their arms around me. I looked up and saw Christian. I hugged him tightly and buried my head in his chest.  
  
"Shhh, it's okay Danielle. No one's going to hurt you now. I'll take care of you," he whispered. My sobs quieted some and Christian stroked my hair.  
  
"Christian what happened?" mother asked.  
  
"We had a run-in with Michael de Chagny at the Opera House," he replied quietly.  
  
"Isn't that Raoul's nephew?"  
  
"Yes, I almost killed the bastard but decided to get Danielle home."  
  
I stood up and wiped my face. I sighed and without a word walked off to my room. I threw off my trench coat, and, when I did, something flew out of my pocket. It landed on the other side of my bed. I looked and realized it was the mask. I picked it up and put it on. It was too big for me, but it gave me a feeling of comfort. I laid down and a few minutes later I fell asleep.  
  
I woke up a few hours later to the sound of my door opening. I sat up and hugged my knees to my chest. I watched as my mother walked in. she gasped when she saw the mask on my face. She came and sat on the bed.  
  
"Oh Danielle," she said quietly and reached for the mask. I pulled quickly away and held it to my face. "Christian told me what happened today." I was startled when my vision turned red at the memory of the man's words. Mother looked at me in shock. "Calm down Danielle," she instructed. I took several deep breaths and my vision slowly returned to normal. A few moments of silence passed before mother spoke again.  
  
"Why don't you take that off now Danielle?"  
  
"I need it," I stated.  
  
"No you don't," mother replied.  
  
"Yes I do mother! You've seen my face!" I yelled.  
  
"Yes, I have seen your face. I don't think you need to hide it with a mask," she said softly. "Christian agrees with me."  
  
"Well you and Christian must be blind then," I snapped. "Can you get me one just like this but smaller?"  
  
Mother sighed. "If that's what you really want Danielle," she answered.  
  
"It is," I said.  
  
"I'll see what I can do," she told me. She kissed the top of my head, stood up, and left the room. Still tired, I laid back down and fell asleep again. I welcomed the rest, but I hadn't counted on the dream.  
  
I was in a cage. A small, steel cage. My mask was dangling just above me. I reached for it but when I did it moved away. I looked ahead of me and realized there was a man holding my mask just out of reach.  
  
"Give it back!" I cried. The man grinned sinisterly.  
  
"Come and get it if you want it," he said sneeringly. I reached for it again then felt a stinging pain in my back. I fell forward in agony and when I looked up I was no longer in a cage.  
  
"Perhaps now you will think twice before you disobey the Shah," a voice said from somewhere above me. I lifted my head a little higher and saw a man in royal robes sitting on a throne. I stood up then bowed.  
  
"Forgive me...your majesty," I said with a sarcastic edge to my voice.  
  
"Get out of my sight!" he yelled. I turned to leave and suddenly I felt another immense pain in my back. It was hard to breathe and my vision was hazy. I looked around and saw a man lying dead on the floor. I also saw Christian and mother. Suddenly, my subconscious mind realized I was dreaming; I was remembering. I was seeing things through my father's eyes.  
  
I fell and my mother came and cradled my head in her lap. Christian knelt next to me. I wanted to wake up. I didn't want to be part of this memory. I wanted to wake up, but I couldn't. I had no control over my words or actions. It was as though somehow my father was showing this to me. It was like he wanted to tell me something but I didn't know what.  
  
"I'll always love you Erik," my mother sobbed.  
  
"And I you Christine," was my response. My eyelids felt so heavy. I wanted to be free of the pain. I closed my eyes and I died. 


	5. Chapter 4

A.N.-Sorry it's taken me so long to update readers! Here it is though, the next chapter in Danielle's story. Some of you may find the rest of the story...I don't know. Actually, I do, but I don't want to say anything that will give anything away. Please don't yell at me if you don't like it. =( I try my best and this is one of my earlier stories so, enjoy.  
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I woke sweating and gasping for breath. I wiped my face dry but it was shortly recovered with tears. The dream had been so real. I had felt the pain, cried the tears, shed the blood, and heard and said the words of my father.  
  
I jumped off the bed and ran out into the hall. I looked at the grandfather clock standing in front of me. It was five minutes to midnight. I went back into my room and grabbed my trench coat. I walked out and quietly made my way down to the front door. I opened it and stepped out into the night.  
  
I ran the short distance to the edge of our property to the family cemetery. At the back of the cemetery was a small hill that flattened out at the top. I climbed the hill and there, next to a willow tree, was my father's grave. I knelt in front of it and tipped my head back.  
  
"Father!" I cried. "Why did you have to go? I wish I could have met you. I love you father." A soft rain began to fall then. It was as if my father were crying. I started to cry too. My tears mixed with the rain and flowed down my face and under the mask.  
  
The rain started to fall harder and I heard thunder off in the distance. A bolt of lightning flashed across the sky. I stood up feeling energized by the darkness and the falling rain. I wanted to run. I started sprinting and before I knew it I was outside the Opera House.  
  
I ran up the stairs and tried to open the door. It was locked. I pulled out my pocket knife and flipped out the lock pick. In moments I had the door opened. I opened the door a crack and slid inside. I smiled at the thought of being alone in the Opera House. I could go wherever I wanted and I had about seven hours.  
  
I walked down the hall that led to the managers' office. The door was, foolishly, left unlocked. I went in and lit a few candles. There were two desks and multiple filing cabinets. I began looking at the labels on the drawers and soon discovered one cabinet with three drawers, all of them labeled "O.G."  
  
I pulled open the top drawer and found mostly insurance documents and damage coverage bills. Moving on to the second drawer, I found records of various "incidents" and the outcomes of each. There were also interviews with people who had supposedly seen the "ghost". Finally, I opened the bottom drawer. It was filled with newspaper clippings and articles dealing with "the Phantom of the Opera". One was a full page story with a headline that screamed, "OPERA GHOST'S REIGN OF TERROR COME TO AN END". Considering the obvious importance of the story, it wasn't very long.  
  
"Two months after the mysterious death of the Viscount de Chagny in the Opera House cellars, the managers have stated that they feel the Opera Ghost is 'gone for good.' They base their statement on the seeming lack of activity from the Phantom in the past 60 days. Apparently no salary has been paid during these two months and there has been no retribution. Also, according to an inside source, the managers have taken to sitting in Box 5- the Ghost's box-with no conflict.  
  
'Monsieur André and I are very pleased to announce that it appears as though the Opera Ghost has gone for good.' This was the official statement from M. Firmin at a press conference yesterday. He was also reported to have made reference to a 'thorough search and examination' of the cellars in hopes that they may find some evidence that will prove their theory. No matter what happens in the next few weeks, for now, Paris will be a little more at ease knowing the threat is no longer serious." I folded the paper back up and replaced it in the drawer. I then stood up, blew out all the candles, and walked out of the office.  
  
I slowly made my way to Box 5 and was surprised, when I walked in, to find someone already in there. I could tell by looking at them that it was a man. He was standing at the balcony staring out over the stage. I took a step forward and winced when I heard the floor creak. The man turned around quickly. His eyes widened when he saw the mask. So did mine.  
  
"Who are you?" he asked and took a step towards me.  
  
"Danielle," I said softly.  
  
"That doesn't tell me much child," he stated and folded his arms across his chest. "And where did you get that mask?"  
  
"From your lair," I replied.  
  
"How did you get there?!" he asked angrily.  
  
"Christian took me there," I answered. He dropped his arms to his sides and stared at me curiously.  
  
"Christian Destler?" he questioned.  
  
"Yes, why?"  
  
"How do you know Christian?" he asked.  
  
"He's my brother," I told him.  
  
"What?" He seemed confused or simply in disbelief. "No, wait, tell me exactly who the Hell you are."  
  
"I'm your daughter," I stated. "My name is Danielle Destler. My mother is Christine Destler. I am 17 years old and-"  
  
"Stop," he commanded and I fell silent. He walked slowly towards me. When he was only about a foot away from me, he reached out and gently touched my face with his fingertips. "You are so beautiful," he whispered.  
  
"No I'm not," I said quietly and dropped my head forward.  
  
"Who told you that?" he asked.  
  
"A man here; He called me a freak. His name was Michael de Chagny I think. That's what Christian said anyway," I answered still looking at the floor.  
  
"I was not aware that there were any Chagny's left," he muttered. I looked up at him and he put his hands on my shoulders. "Don't you dare believe a word that man said. They're lying bastards all of them. Understand me?" I nodded and he straightened up. "Good. So, how is your mother?"  
  
"Good I guess," I said. "May I ask you something?"  
  
"I suppose," he stated.  
  
"How is it that you are here?" I asked. "I thought you were dead."  
  
He sighed and leaned against the wall. "So did I," he murmured.  
  
"What happened?" I questioned.  
  
"Apparently I went nearly comatose from blood loss," he told me.  
  
"But there was a funeral. If you aren't the one who was buried then who is?"  
  
"I honestly don't know. When Christine thought I had died, I had actually just gone unconscious. My pulse was so weak it could hardly be felt. Your mother went and got the Daroga, a friend of mine in a way, who then said he would arrange my funeral. I suppose he just found someone else who he could pass off as me," he explained.  
  
"Wouldn't she have known it wasn't you?" I asked.  
  
"How would she?" I assume the Daroga put a mask on the man he buried," he answered.  
  
"Mother took the mask off though," I argued.  
  
"I don't know what the Daroga did or how he did it," he said irritated. "All I know is that for the past 17 years I've wanted to die and haven't."  
  
"Don't say that," I replied softly.  
  
"Why shouldn't I?" he asked. "It's the truth." I walked to him and hesitated a moment before hugging him. He tipped my head back and looked into my eyes.  
  
"What are you doing?" he asked.  
  
"I'm giving my father a hug. I've always wanted to," I answered.  
  
He smiled slightly but frowned when he looked at my mask again. He stepped away and gently stroked it before taking it off my face. "Look what I did," he whispered and slowly dragged his fingertips over my cheek. He blinked finally and stepped away from me.  
  
"Why didn't you come back to us?" I asked.  
  
"I couldn't Danielle. Your mother, and you and your brother, deserve a good life. Not a life like I have," he stated.  
  
"But she misses you! So does Christian!" I exclaimed.  
  
"I know, I miss them as well, but it has to be this way. You must try to understand," he said. He kissed the top of my head, handed me my mask, and started walking to the door. Partway there, he stopped and looked at me again. "Please, don't tell anyone you saw me."  
  
"Will you show yourself to mother at least?" I asked.  
  
"Perhaps someday, but until then you must act as though you have not met me," he replied. "Can you promise me that?"  
  
"Of course," I answered.  
  
"Thank you," he said and walked out. I went out just after him, but he was nowhere to be seen. I walked through the rest of the Opera house then went back to the main lobby. I stepped outside and locked the doors behind me. I sat on the steps and watched the sun start to creep up over the little Parisian homes. I sighed and began my trip back to the chateau. 


End file.
